I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue—there were four boxes scattered throughout the bridal cottage since we girls had been afraid of floating away on a flood of tears—and sighed. “I was a fool to think I wouldn’t cry. It’s all right, I have fifteen minutes before the ceremony starts. I’ll calm down and get it back on by then.” I motioned to the couch and wingback chairs. “Take a seat?”

We sat, and Mom fussed over my dress, smoothing and tugging out folds lest I wrinkle before the Big Moment. “Are you enjoying California?” I asked.

“It’s gorgeous, but I don’t think I’d get anything done knowing the beach was only twenty minutes away,” Mom said.

Dad nodded and shifted in his seat. “It’s hot.”

I grinned. “It’s August; you weren’t expecting that?”

He looked flustered, and I felt sorry for him. He’d never been much of a talker, with me or my mother, and while I didn’t know what to say to him either, I at least felt peace about him being here. He obviously didn’t. Impulsively I bounded out of my seat and kissed his nose—one of the few games we had between us when I was a child—and headed for the makeup table. “Don’t worry, Pops,” I chided, “it’ll cool off once the sun goes down. That’s only in about two hours. I promise you won’t melt.”

After reapplying my makeup, Mom and I sat back down, and I did my best to keep the conversation going. Jane popped her head in at 6:00 sharp. “Greg wants to know if you’re ready.”

I grinned and nodded. “Think so, yeah.”

My parents stood; Mom hugged me, and Dad smiled faintly again, looking eager to be out of the room. “See you in a minute!” I said, bouncing on my toes with nervous energy. Mom looked on the verge of tears again and quickly left the cottage.

Dad meandered toward the door and winked. “Nice work, Grace.” I beamed. The highest compliment, coming from him.

Jane came back in, followed by the girls. “Everything good?” Missy asked.

I nodded, then heard the violins starting to play the prelude. I could feel my heart twirl, and I shook my head. “I was okay … ” They laughed and hugged me, then grabbed their bouquets and lined up at the door. Jane, who had graciously offered to put her love of details to work as my wedding coordinator, left to stand beside the bridge that led to the spacious, ceramic-tiled patio where the ceremony was being held. Taylor and Joy walked out together at their cue from her, their blue and silver dresses swaying with each step as they disappeared from my view. I took a deep breath and blew it slowly out through pursed lips; every second was making me more nervous.